****
When Cheon Yeong-hu and the biker gangs arrived at the entrance of the Gyeongin Expressway… no one remained. Neither Se-geon, nor Yong-jin; no one was there.
“Damn it! They made us come all this way for nothing! These bastards!”
Cheon Yeong-hu shouted as he glared at the bikers, but he was not such a fool as to use his fists right in front of the watching police. He stayed his hand and instead approached a police officer to ask a question.
“Excuse me, may I ask you something?”
“Yes?”
“Well, did a motorcycle come by here a few minutes or an hour ago?”
“A motorcycle?”
“I mean, um… what was it?”
“A Vulcan and an MX. One looks like a racing motorcycle, and the other looks similar to a police motorcycle.”
One of the bikers provided the explanation. At that, the police officer shrugged his shoulders. A crowd of gangsters and bikers had swarmed in, yet they were still speaking politely to him as a policeman, so he couldn't very well refuse to answer, could he?
The policeman, unable to hide his awkwardness, spoke.
“I only just finished my shift change, so I’m not really sure. Ah, but if it’s a Vulcan, I heard one exploded at the apartment complex just ahead; maybe it was that one.”
“Eh?”
In that instant, shock erupted among the bikers. It was one thing for an accident to occur during a Chicken Race—one rarely died from those. But an accident during a Cannonball led directly to death.
Risks that were clearly visible, like a wall or a river, made a person cautious, but on a road where the risk factors changed moment by moment, the instant you saw the danger was the instant you died.
The bikers climbed onto their motorcycles, worrying for Yong-jin’s safety. However, Cheon Yeong-hu stood there with an expression as if he had chewed on a bug. Without even needing to go and see for himself, the owner of that motorcycle was surely dead. He had vaguely realized that Se-geon had likely dealt with him personally.
A vampire hunter, a murderer who could kill even civilians if necessary, and on top of that, a fellow who received the protection of the law himself as a minor. Cheon Yeong-hu and the Sangdong-pa might have turned a truly formidable fellow into an enemy.
“Damn it. It sends a chill down my spine.”
Cheon Yeong-hu admitted his fear honestly. He returned to his Grandeur sedan and spoke to the junior member who was holding the steering wheel.
“Let’s go back!”
“Yes. But what about that fellow? Aren’t you going to catch him? Keun Hyung-nim is going to be in a total uproar. Our juktong are already smashed up too. If we don’t catch the kid, it feels like we’re going to have to endure another round of beatings.”
The driver said so while stroking the bandage wrapped around his wound. Cheon Yeong-hu shook his head upon hearing that. Although Jeong Sang-dong’s fits were hard to bear, Jeong Sang-dong still wouldn't kill his own people.
“That fellow cannot be caught by you lot with your thug-play. For now, let’s retreat and talk to Keun Hyung-nim.”
Cheon Yeong-hu said that and boarded the car. In any case, these bikers seemed to know who the opponent was, so there was a harvest in that alone.
<><><>
Se-geon returned the motorcycle to the factory and slowly headed home. Even though he called it home, a single tiny room in a dilapidated gosiwon was all it was. As soon as Se-geon entered the room, he pulled out the Tokarev and began to disassemble it. Even as he was taking the firearm apart, tears flowed down without reason.
Se-geon wiped away his tears. If a tear were to fall inside the gun, it would only shorten the lifespan of the already old weapon that had surpassed its renewal period. Yet, to consider such things even while crying—he felt like questioning the very sincerity of his own tears.
“Kkeu-huk, uuuuuuuk!”
Se-geon wiped down the firearm while shedding tears. Then he crouched in a corner and buried his face between his knees. He had killed a person. Not a vampire or a monster, but a person—even if he was a stupid, violent, and sinful biker.
The fact that he was becoming a vampire was ultimately an excuse. In truth, he was simply afraid of being tracked down by those who knew about him. To shut his mouth, he had fired a bullet and killed a human!
“U-huk. He-he-he-huk!”
Se-geon clawed at his own arms. The thick flight jacket protected his body from his fingernails. Se-geon sobbed quietly. There were many people in the gosiwon studying even at this hour. He couldn't make a loud noise.
Clatter!
At that moment, a medicine bottle rolled out from his chest. Inside the medicine bottle made of transparent plastic were capsules of various colors. Without a thought, Se-geon reached out, opened the bottle, and took out one capsule. Psychedelic Moon, which was only VT 13. Se-geon examined the capsule closely and then opened it.
Inside was a well-refined powder medicine. Se-geon placed it on the back of his hand and carefully inhaled it through his nose.
The moon outside the window watched Se-geon as he inhaled the drug.
“Ah….”
Se-geon lifted his hands and looked at them. As the Psychedelic Moon circulated through his veins, a bizarre sensation was felt. Senses beyond the five traditional ones tightened around his body, and the surrounding sounds were sucked in. But the even more shocking thing was the visual change… not only could he see objects clearly even in this night, but he could even distinguish their colors.
However, the outlines of objects appeared to be shaking, and color was leaking out from between them. As if ink were spreading in a wash painting, color bled out from the objects and became dizzily intertwined. At the outlines, which could be called the contact point between one object and another, the colors tangled together and transformed into murky oil paints.
Se-geon looked at his own hand, staring at its outline in shock, when he suddenly stretched that hand out toward the window. Outside, there was a bright blue moon.
“Is this… the Crazy Moon?”
Se-geon muttered that as he watched the moonlight melting into his hand. The blue moonlight flowing down along the outline of his hand, the vision that had turned into a world of oil paints.
‘Welcome to the world of the Crazy Moon.’
Such a voice echoed inside Se-geon’s head. That voice he had heard once before was welcoming Se-geon. In this world that was like death….
<><><>
Low Gibson was one of the big hands recognized even on Wall Street. He was the only son of the Gibson family, which had amassed great wealth, and he was a stockbroker and financier who possessed investment instincts no less than those of his father.
It was a surprising thing that such a man had nested himself in a small country called Korea, tucked away in the East, and moreover, had entered a simple hof rather than a luxury establishment.
“Hmm.”
He sat alone at a table and looked around. Was it because a foreigner had arrived? It was obvious at a glance that the staff were nervous, and other people also occasionally peeked at Low Gibson.
“Wow. Sparkling!”
He let out a cry of admiration upon seeing the dry ice draft beer a waiter was carrying.
The idea of putting dry ice inside a beer mug to keep the beer cold wasn't particularly novel, but to a gentleman who had always lived in hotel suites, how could it not be novel? At that moment, a waiter approached him.
“Um… th-there… What… Order?”
The waiter was as terrified as if Low Gibson were about to eat him. To struggle so much in dealing with a foreigner—was it because the people of this country were a single ethnic group? Low Gibson thought that, but for now, reassuring the waiter in front of him was more important than his own musings.
“It’s alright. Please speak in Korean. I can understand everything.”
As he spoke with such fluent skill, a look of relief crossed the waiter's face.
“Um, what would you like to order?”
“Hmm. Do you have champagne?”
“Yes.”
The waiter answered like that but soon regretted his rash response. The car this foreigner had driven up in was drawing the attention of everyone passing in front of the shop… it was a 2000 model Dodge Viper GTS.
In Korea, it was a sports car much more expensive than a typical luxury house; it was a car rarely seen even on Sinchon street where foreign cars weren't that rare—no, it was a car that one might doubt even two existed within the Republic of Korea.
There was no way a high-end champagne suited to such a VIP’s tastes would be in a hof like this, was there? However, the person who ordered didn't seem to expect much either, as he held the menu and flipped through it with an elegant posture, reading the menu carefully.
Low Gibson was a man so attractive that he put Hollywood movie stars to shame. Therefore, even though it was an economic magazine, the editor-in-chief would self-mockingly say, “Economy has degenerated into Premier!” on the days he appeared on the cover. Yet, compared to such a glamorous appearance, his private life was clean enough to be called Puritanical, making him a mysterious figure.
“Even though it’s called champagne, there’s only one kind. Let’s go with this for now.”
“Ah, yes.”
Was it because Low Gibson was too proficient in Korean? The waiter was actually flustered. However, Low paid no mind to the waiter's flustered state and continued to satisfy his curiosity.
“Ah, and… that billiard table, may I play a bit?”
“O-of course.”
The billiard table placed in the center of the hof had not been touched by anyone yet. Low approached the billiard table and gripped a cue with a beaming smile.
“In movies and such, I’ve seen people do betting billiards a lot in places like this. I suppose Koreans don’t really do that much?”
Looking at his boisterous attitude, one would think it was a rather bad joke that this man was a person of wealth ranked within the top 100 in the world. But it was at that moment.
“Kyaaaaaaaaack!”
The screams of people were heard from outside. At that, Low, who had just gripped a cue, quickly headed toward the entrance. Next to the Dodge Viper he had parked by the road, a girl lay collapsed. There was a fragile-looking girl wearing clothes with a hospital logo on them, and there was a blond boy examining her.
“Master!”
“Bill! What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. Some girl suddenly came and collapsed….”
Hearing that, Low opened his wallet and tossed a ten-thousand-won bill onto the counter. For a billionaire who moved tens of billions with a single finger to carry ten-thousand-won bills… moreover, the words he added were truly a sight to behold.
“I’ll come back for the drink later. Goodbye then.”
He said that as he ran out of the hof. The blond boy holding the girl had blue eyes so brilliant one might think he was a doll, and he had an expression of extreme awkwardness at receiving the gazes of the people around them.
“It’s Yonsei Medical Center. It’s not that far.”
Low said that and started the Dodge Viper’s engine. A truly terrifying engine sound roared out. The boy picked up the girl and got into the car.
“Master, will this be alright? If we just leave this East Asian girl to the police….”
“Everything in the world has a destiny (in-yeon). And I value that greatly. Wilhelm, don't you, who met me, know that best?”
Low said that and gave a thin smile.
“Besides, I am a romanticist!”
<><><>
Se-geon quietly opened his eyes. The inside of the gosiwon, where light didn't even enter properly, was dark even though the sun hadn't set yet.
Se-geon sat up and opened his cell phone. Teasingly, the phone turned off as soon as he opened it due to a lack of power. However, Se-geon saw the date displayed on the screen for a brief second and let out a sigh.
“Have two days passed?”
He rose to his feet. Because he had starved for two entire days, his vision was spinning, but he wasn't hungry.
Was it the effect of the Psychedelic Moon?
Before the administration, he had been crying and carrying on without end, but now his emotions were mostly settled. Even though he hadn't reached any answer, his emotions had just settled.
Se-geon smacked his lips. Right now, he was more worried about the stress remaining in his head than the pain of hunger. He had killed an opponent he despised rather than a friend, yet he had received such severe murder-related stress; could he really continue to kill vampires and humans? Se-geon threw that question to himself but shook his head.
“Ah… I missed training for two days.”
He looked at his gaunt hands and turned on the water at the washbasin. He lacked the physical strength to fight vampires and was short on money, so it seemed he would have to work a regular part-time job for a few days. He finished washing his face and picked up the flight jacket hanging on the wall.
“This really is a job that doesn't make any money.”
Se-geon grumbled like that.